


Naughty Chair

by Teland



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Oral Sex, way too many epithets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-17
Updated: 1998-07-17
Packaged: 2020-12-09 16:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20997986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teland/pseuds/Teland
Summary: Alex pays a visit.





	Naughty Chair

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Alicia and Kass for beta.

Mulder assessed his mood as he opened his apartment door. A   
little frustration, some anger, just a touch of existential   
angst... all over that solid, familiar bedrock of   
depression. That was only as it should be. The apartment   
was dark, also normal, but... wrong. There was a moment in   
which his eyes had time to narrow, followed by a sharp jab   
at the base of his spine; a soft purr of scotch and black   
coffee at his ear.

"Say hey, Mulder..."

//Ah. Fear and lust. That's what was missing.//

Unmistakable click of a safety being removed and he froze.

"What--"

"Did you miss me?"

Mulder could feel the smile bumping casually, naturally   
against his cheek. He really, really wished that his body   
would make even a show of resistance -- or, at the very   
least, indifference to it. 

A sigh that sounded far too much like a gasp. "With all my   
heart, Krycek." There. Nothing but sarcasm. 

Behind him and just to his right was that chuckle that   
never failed to undo him. In these moments, there was   
always an edge to it that kept the younger man from   
succeeding in his attempt to sound lazy and superior. 

//And why have I let it happen so many times that I have an   
honest-to-God statistical base?//

... and there it was. The barrel of the gun began to travel   
up his spine, as though Alex really couldn't stop himself   
from escalating the encounter. As though he were no more   
than, say, a misplaced innuendo away from forcing Mulder to   
his knees and fucking his face. 

"I'm... touched." And the barrel began working its way down   
again. Mulder bit back the commentary. It was possible that   
he wouldn't have to beg for it this time; it was possible   
that the other man knew exactly how sexy the sound of his   
own need was to Mulder -- and adjusted his tone   
accordingly. The moment stretched of its own accord, the   
breath at his ear coming hot and steady, the gun gradually   
slowing to a stop. A tiny sound; Alex was licking his lips.   
Tap tap of the barrel just above his waist.

"Are you going to behave tonight, Fox?"

"Don't--"

Sharp, wet lick along his cheek, sharper tug of teeth on   
his earlobe. Mulder took a shuddering breath.

"What are you going to do if I don't, Alex?"

Abruptly, the presence behind him was gone. 

//Oh, that just isn't fair.//

Mulder whirled and grabbed for his own gun, but it was   
gone. This time it was a full-blown laugh from the vicinity   
of the bookcase. 

//That was probably an over-reaction.// 

"Relax... I was just stashing the hardware."

The older man wondered briefly when things had gotten out   
of hand, and decided it had to have been somewhere around   
the eighth contraction. He did his best to regain his   
composure. "You never did answer my question."

Alex began to

//stalk//

move toward him again, the passage through the pale slash   
of moonlight highlighting a sculpture of danger. He had   
dipped his chin a little, another step and the liquid gleam   
across his eyes was obliterated in the darkness. A few more   
and he was moving against him in languid brushes of leather   
and denim. Mulder leaned in to coax the other man's lips to   
his own, watching with fascination as each upward movement   
of Alex's chin seemed to precipitate a dip of thick lashes.   
One kiss, another, three and there was an arm around his   
waist and a soft, hungry mouth at his throat.

"I could put you in the Naughty Chair."

Mulder laughed breathlessly and tilted his head back to   
allow the other man easier access. Alex obliged the silent   
request, sucking and nipping a path to his collarbone, and   
then up again to his ear. Mulder let his hands slide along   
the waistband of Alex's jeans, occasionally dipping between   
cloth and flesh to feel the shudder of new gooseflesh. 

"I could..."

"Yes?" The older man had managed to get his hands between   
their bodies. For once, Alex was wearing jeans with a   
zipper. Mulder said a prayer of thanksgiving to the gods of   
Laundry Day. A practiced move and he had what he wanted;   
short stroke and Alex bucked once into his fist, groaned   
against his cheek. The proof of the younger man's desire,   
hot and real in his hand, was a truly unholy temptation,   
but Mulder wanted to wait a little longer. "What else would   
you to do to me, Alex?" Another squeeze. "If I didn't   
behave?"

His answer was a none-too-gentle bite behind the ear. 

"I think I'll misbehave."

Alex's laugh was cut off by a strangled gasp as Mulder   
began to work him in short, brutal pulls. The younger man   
brought his hand up to cup his former partner's nape,   
pulling him in for a deep kiss. Mulder could taste the   
brightly bitter tang of need, and then Alex was pushing him   
away. "Ah... Jesus, Mulder, I need you to suck me."

Bright flash of earlier fantasy, scraping holes in his suit   
pants, lip splitting from the force of the other man's   
thrusts... 

"On the couch." His own voice was ragged as he stumbled   
himself and his occasional lover over to the most versatile   
piece of furniture he'd ever owned. An awkwardness of eager   
flesh and recalcitrant denim and Alex was nude from the   
waist down. The younger man reached for him and it seemed   
redundant. His entire body was a demand for worship and   
Mulder knelt, gladly. 

Alex and salt, Alex and want. Times like these he felt he   
could lose himself entirely, put all of the man he wanted   
to be into the motions of teeth and tongue and let the rest   
wilt and die in the forgotten husk of his body. Cries and   
curses from above were sweetest rain, the hand in his hair   
a benediction. And when, finally, he allowed the natural   
path of his tongue to lead him up the underside and down as   
far as he could go it seemed only natural that Alex's harsh   
little scream could feel so much like his own. 

Minutes and minutes of wet, sticky kisses and a traveling   
touch more taunt than caress. 

"So what do I get for... conduct... Alex?"

"I think I need another example of just how bad you can be,   
Mulder." Strong, agile fingers had no difficulty stripping   
away the layers of the older man's workday. "Before I can   
make any judgments, that is."

"I think I might become an absolute terror if you don't get   
that mouth on my dick in the next 37 seconds." 

Alex leaned forward -- not far enough -- and ran his thumb   
along the subtle curve of Mulder's hipbone.

"What are you *waiting* for?"

"Eighteen one thousand, nineteen--"

"Oh, you *bastard*!" 

Mulder had the younger man pinned to the couch in an   
instant, but couldn't decide whether to rip off the t-shirt   
and leather jacket or simply rub himself along Alex's   
length until he found his own satisfaction. Alex was   
giggling again. Maddened, Mulder dove and took one hard   
nipple between his teeth, sucking and worrying through the   
thin fabric with gradually intensifying pressure until the   
other man moaned and arched, then moving to the other side.   
There he stayed until Alex yanked him off by the hair.

"So how am I, Alex?"

"Very bad."

"Naughty Chair bad?"

"You don't deserve the Naughty Chair."

Tight roll of hips and hardness found its like. Alex   
groaned, but the victory of the moment was lost in Mulder's   
own inability to stop thrusting against the other man's   
sweat-slippery abdomen. "Tell me... tell me what I   
deserve."

Alex threw one leg out to kick the coffee table over and   
out of the way, and Mulder found himself spinning through   
the air for a dizzy moment before hitting the floor with a   
teeth-rattling thud. 

"I thought we were done with the overt physical abuse?"

"What gave you *that* idea?"

Before he could answer there was a wickedly knowledgeable   
tongue deep in his mouth, shredding the last remnants of   
his control. Worn leather dragged across his chest and   
shoulders as Alex moved over him for an endless moment.   
Alex assaulted his mouth like a pool of water in a desert,   
lapping and sucking with purest need, always leaving the   
impression that it was never enough. Then, with one final   
lick over his bruised and swollen lips, the kiss was   
broken.

Hoarsely: "Turn over." Pulling back barely far enough for   
Mulder to move. Mulder obeyed, though he couldn't resist   
taking advantage of the cramped situation by teasing them   
both mercilessly with (ultimately useless) contact. He   
arranged himself on hands and knees, and the series of   
small sounds behind him spoke of preparation. Before long,   
a cool slickness found its way between his cheeks. Mulder   
had just enough time to be grateful Alex had left his   
jacket on before the sensations began to burn out his   
neurons, one by one. 

He wondered if this was the same for Alex as using his   
mouth was for him. Expression and... manipulation? Yes,   
that seemed only right. From a distance, he could feel   
himself twisting and writhing, knew those guttural pleas   
were his own. He regretted not being able to see the   
younger man's face, but had grown accustomed to waiting for   
the moments when those fingers would spasm with rare   
clumsiness. The obvious need was just as sexy as those well   
trained crooks and twists and he knew that if he asked just   
then...

"Fuck me, Alex... please..."

... it wouldn't be long before the younger man gave him   
exactly what he needed. And then they were joined and   
Mulder was slammed right back inside himself to take the   
pleasure offered. Alex was a thorough, ruthless lover,   
thrusting slow and steady with the occasional wicked twist   
of hips designed to make him howl. He felt the steadying   
hand on his shoulder, knew it for the invitation and   
request it was, and soon they were upright. Mulder screwed   
himself down on the younger man, working himself faster and   
harder than Alex ever would.

"Oh God, Mulder, do it--"

The younger man wrapped his arm around Mulder's waist and   
bit off curses in the flesh of his shoulder, still pumping   
into him again and again. Mulder fisted his own cock and   
sobbed at the abrupt sensory overload. Seconds, hours later   
he was losing it, entire body aflame and shouting. Through   
the haze of pleasure Mulder felt himself being roughly   
arranged against the couch. He rested his head on his arms   
and let the younger man's strokes prolong his own pleasure.   
A brief shudder and a small, harsh cry announced Alex's own   
finish. They collapsed in a tangle of trembling, sweating   
limbs. 

******

Mulder lapped at Alex's shoulder, bit it when the other man   
didn't move.

"Ow! What?"

"What do I get for conduct?"

"Have I told you lately that you're a lunatic?"

"Yes, but that's neither here nor there. I want to know--"

"B minus."

"B *minus*?! Why?"

"Well, there's all the talking, for one..."

Mulder sighed, bit him again. Alex just laughed. They lay   
quietly for a few more minutes, just breathing in the sex   
and calm. 

"Alex..."

"Mm-hmm..."

"Does the B minus mean you won't be greeting me with a gun   
anymore?"

"Yup. Next time it'll be a knife."

******


End file.
